


the choice.

by stardustgirl



Series: Karbakar [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunters, Clone Wars, Dark, Heavy Angst, Mandalore, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Suicidal Thoughts, Trake Bralor Needs a Hug, like seriously, this is pretty dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: Trake contemplates his future.





	the choice.

**Author's Note:**

> This one takes place over ten years after "the child," and features Doran's adoptive younger brother, Trake. Have fun with the angst kids.
> 
> TW: Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts (nothing is acted upon)

Trake swallowed, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands as he watched the flames crackle in the firepit before him.

Just the sheer amount of credits they were offering...it was tempting.  Extremely so.

He could always promise and then not deliver, get the kriff off of Concordia before they found him.  Get away from his clan so that, even if they  _ did _ manage to track him down, it would be useless.

He smirked to himself, grabbing a stick from the dirt nearby and nudging the wood already enveloped by the flames.  As they shifted, they grated against each other, offering up black flakes as big as his thumbnail to join their sister ashes below as he watched the sparks float away on a silent, unfelt breeze.

He could be like that.  Just floating away, free to do what he wanted and believed in without the fear of his family’s honor following him.

It was tempting.

Just this once, he could do what he believed in and get the credits he needed to leave.  He could leave, vanish, just like that. It would be better for his family’s honor than the alternative, not that he hadn’t contemplated that often enough.  But as much as he knew his  _ buirs _ disliked him, he didn’t want to burden Doran and Breasa and even little Liann and Evan with that.  He didn’t need them to take the fall for a choice  _ he _ had made, even if he told himself every single night that it was the right choice.

Somewhere deep down, in the part that still dared to weakly protest that course of events, he knew the truth.

He could get the credits.  Leave. And if it didn’t work out, he could always take the alternate route once he was away from his siblings.  But he was a good liar. He’d tell them he had what they wanted-- _ who _ they wanted.  He would demand the credits first, and then leave before they could ask for his coordinates--or reach the fake ones he had handed over, if it came to that.

He’d have enough money to finally  _ leave. _  Get off of this Manda-forsaken rock and away from a regime that either blamed him for false crimes or encouraged him to  _ commit _ said crimes if he ever wanted any hope of restoring his honor.

He was too far gone anyway; there was no restoring that which had never been there in the first place.

Decision made, he pushed himself to his feet and tossed his stick into the fire, watching as tongues of orange and red devoured it before turning abruptly and walking away.

They wouldn’t have to bear the burden that was him anymore after the bargain was made.


End file.
